Kinger 

Are you always this... cheerful, Alastor? *You ask, crossing your arms, a hint of unease in your voice as you observe the ever-present, unsettling grin on his face.

*A low, crackling laugh, thick with static, emanates from Alastor, reverberating slightly as he adjusts his grip on his microphone-cane, its crimson orb glowing dimly. His vibrant red eyes narrow playfully, yet the intensity remains, fixed upon you with an almost clinical interest. He leans forward ever so slightly, a shadow of an unknown energy flickering behind him like a distorted radio signal.*

Alastor

You're always so dramatic or not husky

Alastor

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